"Grand Wizard Behrens"
In the Slytherin Common Room, plenty of students had gathered to watch the spectacle.
"Isn't that Chandelier Selwyn?" some students jeered. They were pure-bloods too, so they weren't afraid of Selwyn coming after them.
Chandelier Selwyn's reputation had spread far and wide. After all, not everyone spent their first night at Hogwarts hanging from a light fixture in the Common Room.
Ivan Selwyn and Auburn Nott flushed red. They were "nobles" who cared deeply about appearances.
"Looks like they brought a whole crowd to deal with that Ravenclaw spy," someone said, grasping the situation at a glance.
Malfoy stood among the crowd with his two sidekicks behind him, studying Will with curiosity. He had heard about Will hanging his classmates from a chandelier, but he wasn't particularly interested in him.
As far as he was concerned, the only heroes in the world were Harry and Draco. Everyone else was just background. Harry Potter, though, didn't seem especially willing to accept his friendship, and Draco had been busy observing him these past two days.
Seeing Yaxley lead so many people against Will alone, Malfoy curled his lip. "Ganging up on one person? Hardly noble behavior."
If it were him, he would deal with the boy himself. He wouldn't even need Goyle or Crabbe.
"Hmph. They disgraced their families the moment that Muggle-born boy hung them from the chandelier," someone said, sounding just as disdainful.
"Good. Let those Muggle-borns learn that nobles aren't to be crossed."
"Isn't that Yaxley from third year? Getting involved in a first-year dispute and picking on someone younger than him—doesn't he have any shame?"
"Hey, the Yaxley Family and the Selwyn family are close. There's nothing wrong with him standing up for Selwyn."
"Selwyn's useless, too. How did he lose to that Muggle-born newcomer?"
Most of the speakers came from Wizard families or pure-blood families. Muggle-born young wizards had little say in Slytherin and were excluded much of the time. Their backgrounds and abilities counted against them, and there weren't many of them to begin with.
Yaxley's face darkened as he listened to the chatter around him.
"Boy, you don't learn magic just by talking. I only offered you this chance because you managed to beat them." Yaxley's expression turned grim as he drew his Wand. "Since you won't take it, don't blame me for being ruthless."
Will suspected the fellow had never fought a proper duel. What was the point of all this nonsense? Only the one left standing would have any right to speak.
He merely raised his hand and aimed his Wand at Yaxley. There was no fear or tension in his silver-gray eyes. Somehow, Yaxley saw mockery in them.
"Looks like I'll have to teach you a lesson, Mudblood! Stupefy!"
Yaxley swung his Wand, sending a spell at Will.
Will neither dodged nor moved aside. Stupefy came straight at him.
"The boy's frozen with fear!"
"Yaxley's a third-year! That boy's asking for it!"
"Make that Mudblood learn his place!" Selwyn's group shouted.
Sylvia anxiously urged Will to move. "Get out of the way, Will!"
"Protego!" A faint shield of magic appeared around Will.
"Useless. With a first-year's level of magic, his Protego might as well be paper. He's dreaming if he thinks it'll stop Yaxley's Stunning Spell," an older student remarked.
Stupefy struck Will head-on. Everyone watching thought he would go down at once—
But Will only swayed. Then he grinned at Yaxley and offered his assessment: "Not a bad attack."
[You experienced the attack of a spell firsthand. Because it was obstructed, your experience was incomplete. Charms experience +2]
Was Will stupid to stand there without dodging? Of course not. He was running an experiment.
He had tried casting a Stunning Spell on himself before, but the results had been terrible. Afterward, he recalled one of the rules governing this world: a spell's power depended on its caster's magic, emotions, state of mind, and thoughts.
Professor Moody, while being impersonated by Barty Crouch Jr., had once said in class that casting the Killing Curse required sufficient magic. A wizard's extreme emotions affected the power of dark spells, while the Patronus Charm required a happy memory.
When Hogwarts professors taught spells, they emphasized how students should focus their thoughts. Dumbledore, meanwhile, had repeatedly stressed Love Magic.
Will found it hard to feel much hostility toward himself. Doing so wouldn't make him a genius; it would mean he had a split personality. He really did need someone else to help with his experiment, and Yaxley made an excellent test subject.
As for the Shield Charm, it was one of the spells Will knew best. He had understood the importance of defensive magic like the Shield Charm as soon as he encountered magic and had spent years practicing it. A considerable share of his LV4 Charms experience had come from the Shield Charm. By now, he could barely gain experience from reading about it or casting it repeatedly.
Back to the matter at hand: everyone was stunned to see Will take a direct hit from Stupefy without any apparent effect. His skill far exceeded their expectations.
The mocking smile on Will's face made Yaxley's cheek twitch. Being humiliated like this by a Muggle-born first-year left him furious.
"Avis! Expelliarmus!" Yaxley fired two spells in quick succession.
This time, Will didn't simply defend. He leaped sideways, dodging the Expelliarmus hidden among the birds, then pointed his Wand. "Incendio!"
A sheet of flame swept the birds away, filling the Common Room with heat. Will didn't stop. "Expelliarmus! Stupefy! Petrificus Totalus!"
Three spells came at Yaxley in succession. He was about to dodge when two bits of grass by his feet suddenly turned into black snakes and bound his legs tight. Caught off guard, he fell. The Petrificus Totalus, deliberately aimed low, struck him dead on, freezing him in place.
Yaxley had fallen to Will in mere tens of seconds. Ivan Selwyn and Auburn Nott looked panicked; they had never imagined the help they'd brought would be defeated so easily.
"Get him together! Don't be afraid—there's only one of him!" Selwyn gritted his teeth. Seven or eight people raised their Wands at once. Will narrowed his eyes. "Confringo!"
Boom! A violent explosion erupted in the middle of the group. The shock wave left the young wizards' ears ringing, and seven or eight of them went down at once. Some Wands flew several meters away.
The students nearby clapped their hands over their ears and drew sharp breaths. Draco Malfoy's jaw had dropped. He now admitted that this Muggle-born was strong. He would need Goyle and Crabbe with him to stand a chance.
Many people looked at Will differently now. For a first-year, his skill was monstrous. Even plenty of third-years would struggle to cast those spells so smoothly, let alone use Transfiguration while casting. Then he had finished with Confringo, a dangerous advanced spell.
Everyone put some distance between themselves and Will. He was a little too dangerous.
After all, Peter Pettigrew, recipient of the Order of Merlin, First Class, had died to Confringo—along with twelve Muggles!
What kind of talent was that?!
[You have cast spells multiple times. You have grown more proficient with a spell. Charms experience +1]
[You have cast spells multiple times. You have grown more proficient with a spell. Charms experience +1]
[You have cast spells multiple times. You have grown more proficient with a spell. Charms experience +1]
Will frowned slightly. He had gained only five experience points just now. Hardly worth it.
Still, judging by everyone's reactions, he had achieved his goal. They probably wouldn't bother him again. Perhaps he could finally enjoy a peaceful time at school.
Just then—
"Will Behrens! What have you done?" An angry roar came from the entrance to the Common Room. Will turned and saw the greasy-haired bat, his face dark with anger.
The Slytherin students scattered at once.
"It wasn't Will's fault, Professor. They started—" Sylvia tried to explain, but Snape cut her off.
"Miss Lestrange, this has nothing to do with you! Why don't you step aside and let me ask Behrens?" Snape's face was grim, his tone harsh. "Or indulge that inexplicable kindness of yours and have someone take these poor wretches to Madam Pomfrey."
The hem of Snape's black robe swept across the floor, leaving a stark shadow in its wake. "As for you, Mr. Grand Wizard Behrens."
He turned toward the corridor, his black robe tracing a dark arc behind him. "My office is the third room in the West Tower of the Castle."